Li Kuiyi understood what had happened the instant she stepped through the door.

It wasn’t unusual for her and Qi Yu, as the top students in the arts and sciences respectively, to both be called in for a talk with Chen Guoming at the same time — but the fact that both their homeroom teachers were present, and that Qi Yu’s mother had come as well, pointed to only one possibility: the day they skipped class together had been discovered.

And it had most likely been found out by Qi Yu’s mother — otherwise there would be no reason to call only Qi Yu’s parent and not hers.

In fact, after Qi Yu had brought her a birthday gift at the start of August, they hadn’t seen each other since. She didn’t know when he had returned, either. By her reckoning, the National High School Mathematics League competition should be wrapping up about now — she didn’t know how Qi Yu had done, or whether he had made it into the provincial team.

Clearly, however, this wasn’t the moment to worry about that.

Before she could even greet the teachers, Chen Guoming came to stand before her with his hands clasped behind his back. His gaze swept over her once, then he gave a pointed, deliberate cough. “On the day the college entrance examinations ended — that would be June 8th — you didn’t come to evening self-study. You told Teacher Jiang you were sick, didn’t you?”

“Yes.”

Li Kuiyi felt a little uneasy, unsure how the teachers planned to handle this.

Chen Guoming gave a cold laugh. “How convenient, then — the top arts student and the top sciences student in our year both asked for leave from their respective homeroom teachers at exactly the same time with exactly the same excuse.”

Li Kuiyi kept her head down and said nothing, thinking: you don’t need to be sarcastic about it, sir — just ask me what you want to know. Things had come this far; she had no intention of being anything but honest.

Seeing her like this, Chen Guoming understood, and asked plainly: “Were the two of you together that day?”

There was nothing to argue about. Li Kuiyi said quietly but clearly, “Yes.”

“Then tell me what happened.” Chen Guoming turned and settled into his chair with a thud.

Li Kuiyi said, unhurriedly: “That afternoon, Qi Yu and I went to the zoo. On the way back we got caught in heavy traffic, and by the time we would have made it to evening self-study we would definitely have been late. Being late would have docked points from our class, so I just asked for leave altogether.”

Chen Guoming’s face hardened. “You skipped self-study to avoid docking points from your class — how thoughtful of you. Should Teacher Jiang be thanking you?”

Li Kuiyi was in full cooperation mode — admit what needs to be admitted, do whatever Chen Guoming expects. She instinctively shook her head and said quietly, “No.”

That left everyone in the office momentarily speechless.

This child was supposedly the top arts student — how could she not tell a sincere comment from a sarcastic one?

Chen Guoming nearly choked on laughter, and only just managed to hold it back. He wiped his face, decided to let that one go, and asked the question he really cared about: “So after you asked for leave — what did the two of you do?”

Li Kuiyi felt like a criminal suspect laying out her timeline. “At around seven in the evening, we got off the bus and went to the city library to read. We came out around eight, and then went to McDonald’s for dinner.”

Chen Guoming couldn’t help thinking to himself: good students really are good students — even when they rebel, they lack imagination. Skipping class and going to the library, of all places… Of course, he kept that thought to himself. What he let show on his face grew considerably colder:

“You skipped class to go to the library, and you think that makes it fine? This is deception — pure deception of your teachers. Teacher Liu and Teacher Jiang trusted the both of you, thought you were good kids. The moment you said you were sick, they approved your leave at once and told you to rest — and what did they get in return? Thankfully nothing happened to you outside school. But what if it had? What would that have meant for Teacher Liu and Teacher Jiang? For the school? For your families? Here’s what you’re going to do: both of you — a five-thousand-word written self-reflection, to be submitted to me by first break on Monday. That’s where this matter ends.”

Only a five-thousand-word self-reflection…?

Li Kuiyi could scarcely believe what she was hearing. So many people had been called into the room, with the air of a formal multilateral meeting — and the punishment was this lenient? Were the others here just as decoration? Most surprising of all was that Chen Guoming hadn’t suspected her and Qi Yu of being in a relationship. That was practically the sun rising from the west.

Still, disbelief was one thing; privately she was relieved. She quickly and obediently admitted her fault, saying in a subdued tone, “I’m sorry to all the teachers. I know I was wrong, and it won’t happen again.”

A brief silence fell over the office. She cautiously raised her eyes to gauge the reactions.

Chen Guoming’s expression still held residual displeasure. Jiang Jianbin’s gaze toward her contained a trace of doubt. As for Liu Xinzhao — she had her eyes slightly lowered, her expression too still, holding a kind of quiet sorrow.

Li Kuiyi felt her heart sink: she had ruined it. Liu Xinzhao had to be disappointed in her.

She could not care less what Chen Guoming or Jiang Jianbin thought of her — but she couldn’t bear the thought of Liu Xinzhao having even the slightest unfavorable opinion of her. Even the mere possibility of it made her heart ache terribly.

She bit her lip until it went faintly white.

At that moment, Qi Yu’s mother spoke. Her voice was flat, carrying no warmth: “Qi Yu was wrong too — lying to teachers, skipping evening self-study. As his parent, I’m not going to make excuses for him. I apologize to all the teachers on his behalf. Going forward, his father and I will have stricter standards for him.”

This kind of thing only required the child to express remorse — there was no need for a parent to issue a formal apology on their behalf. Chen Guoming waved it off, his tone softening somewhat: “No, no — children make mistakes. It’s only right that we say something. But they’re still young; sometimes their judgment is off, and that’s normal. As long as it doesn’t happen again.”

But Chen Xiujin was not about to let it go. Her voice was controlled, yet threaded with barely concealed anger: “I don’t think they’ll learn their lesson from such a light punishment. As far as I’m concerned, he should have to face real consequences. He was never like this before — always obedient, never a single misstep from childhood to now. And now? He’s learned how to lie. He’s learned how to skip class. I genuinely have no idea where he picked all this up.”

Li Kuiyi paused.

Every word of that was pointing directly at her.

At first glance, people would only hear Qi Yu’s mother scolding Qi Yu for being weak-willed — but who was this person doing the “leading astray”? Skipping class had indeed been her idea, but she hadn’t forced him. She hadn’t even suggested it; it had been Qi Yu’s own decision entirely. Why should it be laid at her feet?

Even Li Kuiyi caught the insinuation — to say nothing of a seasoned veteran like Chen Guoming. He understood perfectly: Qi Yu’s mother was targeting Li Kuiyi, because according to what Qi Yu had told her, skipping class had been Li Kuiyi’s idea. But Chen Guoming felt the whole thing was impossible to adjudicate — going to the zoo in the first place had been Qi Yu’s invitation.

Chen Guoming felt protective of his student. He couldn’t help it; Li Kuiyi gave him endless headaches, but her grades were far too good. Every time she pushed him to his limit, he only had to glance at her report card and the fury fizzled out by half.

He put on an expression of sympathetic understanding for Chen Xiujin’s benefit, and deftly deflected: “Children this age are hard to manage — so many distractions outside. One small misstep is all it takes. Ah, the worry we go through as parents and teachers…”

Chen Xiujin could see that Chen Guoming was smoothing things over, but she still couldn’t quench the resentment in her heart. In truth, she had discovered the zoo trip and the skipped class some time ago, but had held back for fear of disrupting Qi Yu’s performance in the competition. Qi Yu, however, had still come away from the National League with a disappointing result — two rankings short of making the provincial team.

Why had he done poorly in the competition? Because he had allowed himself to entertain thoughts he shouldn’t have, and hadn’t devoted himself entirely to his studies.

The moment she thought of this, Chen Xiujin’s expression darkened visibly. She let out a cold laugh: “A light punishment won’t make him learn anything. I think it doesn’t matter how well they’re managed — if someone’s self-discipline isn’t there, all it takes is one person to crook a finger and lead them astray.”

For some reason, Li Kuiyi found that last sentence stranger than the one before it.

To a casual listener, it would only sound like Qi Yu’s mother berating Qi Yu for his lack of willpower. But who, exactly, was this “person crooked their finger” in the statement?

“Are you saying that Qi Yu did all of this because of me?” Li Kuiyi couldn’t restrain herself.

Her chest rose and fell slightly, her voice climbing a notch. “He’s almost seventeen years old. He’s not a child. Is it really so simple as ‘someone led him astray’? And besides, there’s nothing wrong with me — in your value system, grades matter a great deal, don’t they? My grades are better than his. I keep myself busy with studying and have no free time to crook a finger at anyone, nor any desire to. You don’t need to treat every girl in the world as a potential daughter-in-law candidate, assuming her very existence is meant to crook fingers and lead people away—”

She hadn’t finished speaking when Jiang Jianbin coughed once and shot her a look, signaling her to stop.

Li Kuiyi knew she was letting her mouth run away with her. Saying these things would hurt Qi Yu, however slightly — his mother’s mistakes shouldn’t be paid for by him. But she genuinely couldn’t think of any response that would strike back without catching an innocent person in the crossfire.

Watching Chen Xiujin’s expression blacken dramatically, Chen Guoming quickly cut in: “All right, all right — nobody said it was you. What are you getting so sensitive for? One word from someone else and you’ve already said ten back — when are you going to learn some restraint?”

Li Kuiyi made a sullen face and turned her head to one side.

This needed to end now, or it would go on forever. Chen Guoming pressed forward: “Don’t forget — five thousand words each, submitted to me by first break on Monday. This matter ends here. It will not happen again.”

But Chen Xiujin pressed on, relentless: “That punishment is too light. They won’t learn anything. I think they should read their self-reflections in front of the entire school.”

Chen Guoming didn’t want to make things that public — both children were top students, and he wanted them to serve as role models for their year. A sudden public reprimand would undermine that. But Qi Yu’s mother’s opinion had to be taken into account, and Chen Guoming knew what he knew: both of Qi Yu’s grandparents worked in the education bureau.

That boy really had drawn the short straw, having an entire family of educators.

And that was the particular sorrow of many teachers’ children — parents who had seen the very best students set a standard that made them unable to accept an ordinary child of their own.

Throughout the entire meeting in the office, Qi Yu had kept his head down, looking ashen — dark circles under his eyes, cracked lips, his face a mask of either exhaustion or blankness.

The final ruling: both students were to deliver their self-reflections publicly, in place of the usual morning address after the flag-raising ceremony on Monday.

After leaving Chen Guoming’s office, Jiang Jianbin pulled Li Kuiyi aside to the teachers’ office, delivered a thorough scolding, venting his displeasure at having been deceived — and also asked whether she and Qi Yu were in a relationship. Only after Li Kuiyi denied it adamantly did he finally believe her.

By the time Li Kuiyi had received the full dressing-down, the sky had already grown dark. It was Saturday; most students had cleared out of the school. She went back to her seat, dragging her feet, and took her bag down from the hook on the side of her desk. As she was about to pack up, she found a crumpled ball of paper inside the bag. She opened it — a message from He Youyuan:

“I have to go to the studio tonight, so I can’t walk you home. There’s ice cream in your desk drawer.”

Li Kuiyi reached into the desk drawer and felt around. Sure enough, her fingers found something cold — a cup of vanilla ice cream. It had been sitting there a while; a fine layer of condensation had collected on the outside.

The faintest smile surfaced at the corner of her mouth.

But then she suddenly thought: come Monday morning, when she read her self-reflection over the school broadcast, He Youyuan would learn that she hadn’t actually been sick that day — she had been out with Qi Yu, skipping evening self-study together. He Youyuan was extraordinarily petty. He would definitely be upset. Enormously upset.

What a problem.

If he got upset, should she coax him?

Li Kuiyi packed up her bag and left the classroom, heading down the stairs and out of the teaching block, eating the ice cream as she walked. She had just scooped out the first bite when she spotted a familiar figure ahead — a white chiffon blouse and jeans, a canvas tote in hand, apparently full of test papers.

It was Liu Xinzhao.

She hadn’t said a single word in Chen Guoming’s office.

Li Kuiyi’s heart tightened again. She closed the ice cream she’d just opened and jogged after her, backpack bouncing with every step.

“Teacher Liu…”

Liu Xinzhao turned at the sound.

Li Kuiyi noticed she wasn’t smiling. She always smiled at her before.

She was definitely disappointed.

“What is it?” Liu Xinzhao asked gently, once Li Kuiyi had caught up to her.

“I’m sorry.” Li Kuiyi gripped the ice cream cup tightly — it was very cold — but her eyes, against her will, began to heat up.

Liu Xinzhao looked at her for a moment, then tilted her head slightly. “Why are you apologizing?”

“I did something wrong and let you down.” Li Kuiyi pressed her lips together, the skin around her eyes flushing faintly pink. She tried her best to keep her eyes wide open, not wanting to cry.

She was doing everything she could to hold it in — but the thought that Liu Xinzhao might no longer like her was simply too much. Two tears slipped free.

Liu Xinzhao watched her quietly for a moment, then reached out and used her fingertips to wipe away the wet tracks under Li Kuiyi’s eyes. “I haven’t lost faith in you,” she said. She paused, then added, “I’m just — a little worried.”

Truly? She hadn’t lost faith?

Hearing this, Li Kuiyi felt a measure of calm return — but she was still a little uneasy.

Liu Xinzhao pulled two tissues from her bag and offered them over: “Wipe your tears.”

Li Kuiyi took them and scrubbed somewhat haphazardly at her face, then crumpled the tissues in her fist. The condensation from the ice cream cup quickly soaked them through.

Liu Xinzhao walked alongside her toward the school gate, and after a while she asked, “You and Qi Yu — are you friends?”

Li Kuiyi nodded. “Yes.”

She understood what Liu Xinzhao was worried about, and sniffled before adding, “Just friends. We’re not in a relationship.”

Liu Xinzhao finally smiled — the warmth of it shot through with relief. “When I was called to Director Chen’s office and found out you’d skipped evening self-study with Qi Yu that day — I did genuinely suspect something about your relationship.”

Li Kuiyi wanted to put her at ease, and said carefully, “I know what I’m doing.”

“What do you mean by that — that you’re exercising enough self-discipline not to be in a relationship?”

“Yes.” Li Kuiyi nodded.

Liu Xinzhao gave a quiet laugh.

She believed it. A student who had held the top position on the grade ranking year after year would have exceptional self-management abilities. If she said she could keep herself from being in a relationship, she meant it. But whether to be in a relationship was one thing; whether feelings existed was another.

Feelings couldn’t be controlled.

At this age, when hormones ran rampant, it was terribly easy to develop affection for someone. A piece of candy, a borrowed school jacket, a breakfast brought to you, patient help with a difficult problem — things that adults would consider inconsequential could stir up ripples in a young heart.

Liu Xinzhao did not want Li Kuiyi to have a relationship in high school. At least not a reckless one. In her heart, she fervently hoped that Li Kuiyi would get into the university she wanted, would be able to leave the things that confined her, and step out into a broader world.

Her tone lightened, like someone chatting casually with a younger sister: “What if you ended up liking someone — but didn’t plan to actually be in a relationship with them? What would you do? Keep it locked up inside?”

Li Kuiyi hadn’t expected Liu Xinzhao to discuss the topic of love with her. She felt a touch of shyness, but still gave it serious thought and said, “Then I just wouldn’t pay him any attention — I’d keep my distance. Cut things off cleanly.”

Liu Xinzhao was amused, a soft ripple of laughter passing through her. After a moment she grew more composed, and said with candid ease: “Actually, that problem has a straightforward solution. If you find yourself liking someone, try observing him more carefully. Look at whether he has stable emotions. Look at whether he has a kind heart. Look at whether his attitude toward studying is positive and earnest. Look at how he treats his friends. Look at how he speaks about his family. Trust me — once you’ve taken a careful look at all of these things, you’ll probably find you have no desire to keep liking him.”

Why? Li Kuiyi wondered.

At the school gate, Liu Xinzhao patted her on the head and said goodbye. She walked home alone, still turning Liu Xinzhao’s words over in her mind, forgetting entirely to eat her ice cream.

Thinking about it that way, He Youyuan fails on every count, she thought without any particular reason.

He has a terrible temper, constantly blowing hot and cold. He loves to make fun of people — not kind at all. He doesn’t care for studying, always so lazy…

When she finished, she gave herself a small start. She had no idea why she had, inexplicably, found herself placing He Youyuan into that framework.

And in that moment, Li Kuiyi suddenly realized — for quite some time now, she had been permitting something to happen.

Lately, every day she had been walking home with He Youyuan, chatting about this and that along the way, or bickering. He often brought her small snacks — ice cream, yogurt, or a bag of mixed nuts. But sometimes he was mischievous, deliberately smearing undried paint from his clothes onto her arm until she shrieked and fumed at him…

Even though having him around always made the walk home a little chaotic, she seemed to be growing more and more accustomed to his presence.

This frightened her somewhat.

What if she ended up liking him?

A new week arrived. On Monday morning, after the flag-raising ceremony, Li Kuiyi and Qi Yu stood at the school broadcast and read their self-reflections in turn — causing a stir across the entire assembly ground. Students whispered to one another, naturally speculating about the nature of the two top students’ relationship, while also marveling: only a top student could skip class and still end up at the library. The rest of us mere mortals can only look on in awe.

Even more interesting was what happened immediately after the self-reflections had been read — the school launched into a commendation ceremony.

“Our school’s Year Two, Class One student Qi Yu has won first prize at the provincial level in the 30th National High School Mathematics League; our school’s Year Two, Class Seventeen student Li Kuiyi has been awarded the 2013-2014 Municipal ‘Three-Good Student’ title and has received a municipal government first-class scholarship of 3,000 yuan…”

The students: “…”

There was really no need to make the rewards and punishments this simultaneous.

After the entire flag-raising ceremony concluded and the students flooded back into the teaching building for morning reading, Li Kuiyi and Qi Yu were stopped by Chen Guoming after leaving the broadcast room. He told them that both the rewards and the punishments were now in the past; from this point forward, they needed to work twice as hard.

Li Kuiyi nodded, but she noticed Qi Yu standing there with a blank, vacant stare. He looked completely defeated right now — like a puppet stripped of its soul.

Chen Guoming noticed Qi Yu’s state as well. He waved Li Kuiyi ahead to go back to class and began a one-on-one conversation with Qi Yu.

Li Kuiyi returned to the classroom, ignored the glances her classmates directed at her, and went straight to her seat. She noticed He Youyuan was not looking at her — face cold, staring at the history textbook on his desk. But judging by his expression, he wasn’t absorbing a single word.

She’d said as much. He was going to be upset.

Li Kuiyi had no intention of trying to appease him. She pulled out the stool from under her desk to sit down — and He Youyuan stretched out a long leg and kicked her stool with a thud.

Fortunately everyone was doing morning reading, so the noise the stool made scraping across the floor was masked well enough.

She turned around to find He Youyuan already resting his head on his arms with his eyes closed, as if sleeping. But his lips were pressed into a tight line, plainly broadcasting his displeasure.

Li Kuiyi ignored him and turned back to face front.

A little while later, Jiang Jianbin came in to check on the class, and before a second had passed, He Youyuan was made to stand as punishment.

For the entire rest of the day, he didn’t say a word to her.

Perhaps this was the distance that should always have existed between her and He Youyuan. She shouldn’t have let them get so close, Li Kuiyi thought.

That evening, since she’d received the scholarship, Li Kuiyi treated Fang Zhixiao to a big bag of boneless chicken strips at the school gate after self-study. After parting ways with Fang Zhixiao, she cradled her own bag of chicken strips and walked along eating them, spearing pieces with a skewer as she went. But then she came to an abrupt halt.

She saw He Youyuan sitting on the edge of a flower bed at the gate of Zhuangyuan Fu, waiting for her. His arms were braced on his knees, head drooping — she couldn’t tell what he was thinking. He looked a little solitary from where she stood.

She had thought he wouldn’t be waiting for her today.

Perhaps he sensed something — he raised his head and looked in her direction.

Li Kuiyi didn’t know what to say to him, so she simply looked back at him, chewing the piece of boneless chicken strip in her mouth occasionally.

After a moment, he spoke, his voice very low and very flat: “Not even one word for me?”

Say what?

Was he hoping for an explanation? But what he’d heard over the broadcast today was simply what had happened — there was no misunderstanding to explain. What was there to say?

And besides, he wasn’t her boyfriend. What gave him the right to demand an explanation?

“Do you want some?” Li Kuiyi held the chicken strips out toward him, and — as he’d wished — said something to him.

He Youyuan nearly choked on his own indignation.

He shot to his feet, crossed over to stand in front of Li Kuiyi, and looked down at her. “Why did you lie to me?”

“I lied to my homeroom teacher and asked for a sick day — so you got caught in it too. I couldn’t help that.”

And you think you can just say that without any remorse?

He Youyuan was furious — his face cycled through white and gray and back again — but he was completely powerless against her. He stared at her with dark, pitch-black eyes for a long moment, and in the end all he managed to force out was: “Lying to me is one thing — but you spent the whole time with him after getting out of class!”

“There was nothing I could do — I said I was going to the library, and he said he wanted to go too. I couldn’t tell him he wasn’t allowed. It’s not my library.”

“You could have gone home.”

“And how would I explain to my family why I hadn’t gone to evening self-study?”

“You — but then you—”

He “you’d” and “but then’d” his way back and forth without landing on anything, and He Youyuan now felt entirely inarticulate, unable to produce a single rebuttal.

It was obviously her that had left him hurting, and yet all she knew how to do was reason at him, making it seem as though he were the one being unreasonable. Would it kill her to say something soft and gentle to coax him a little? It wasn’t that he wasn’t going to forgive her — he just wanted some acknowledgment from her. Just some sign that she understood.

“Is there truly nothing you want to say to me?” He Youyuan’s voice went hoarse. His breathing had pulled slightly tight.

He had dropped every possible hint. He had done his utmost.

Li Kuiyi lowered her gaze, as though she really were thinking about something. Her fingers tightened around the paper bag of boneless chicken strips, producing a faint rustling sound.

A long moment passed. She suddenly raised her eyes and said, composedly, “He Youyuan, you don’t need to walk me home anymore.”

He Youyuan went completely still.

He looked at her, unable to believe what he’d heard, his lower eyelid twitching very slightly with shock.

Was this…what he’d been hoping to hear?

Why had she suddenly said something so brutal to him? Why was she unwilling to let him walk her home anymore? Was it just because he had wanted an explanation from her today? But why shouldn’t he be allowed to want an explanation — he had thought, at least, that she had at least a small amount of feeling for him. The fact that she had let him walk her home was her way of giving the two of them time together, wasn’t it? But she could take it back just like that, without any warning — leaving him completely blindsided. He didn’t even know what he meant to her.

He Youyuan wheeled abruptly away. His eyes had gone red. All the grief, the grievance, the pitifulness, the resentment — all of it twisted together, with a thread of something that sounded almost like the edge of tears, and he bellowed it out from his throat: “Fine — I won’t be jealous over you anymore, is that good enough!”